The beginning (Due'le quartz)

Title: The beginningAuthor:wilwaGenre: Bandfic, everydayChapters: Oneshot ( ? ) and drabble (Words: 346)Ratings:GBand: Due'le quartzResume: The beginning of Miyabi's career.Disclaimer: I do not own Due'le quartz, or Miyabi/Miyavi, they belong to themselves. I also don't get any money out of this and it's all imagination.Comments: I wrote this on the commuter train home. It was some days ago, and I don't know if I'm fully pleased with this, but as my mood when I wrote this is gone I'm gonna accept it as it it is for now. I'm also thinking of writing a multi-chapered Due'fic, and with this as the beginning. Thinking of linking it with ( Sakito was the first to leave... ). But problem is that you'll already know how it's gonna end then. Hm... I'm gonna think about it and see.

X-posted.

When he walked in to the room that was cast as the audition-room he didn't even have a name. The name that his parents had given him didn't count; in this world he needed a name that stuck to the brain. Something really cool.

Waiting for his turn he tried to block his nervousness that started to built in his stomach by trying to create a name that would be Him for the rest of his life.

“The independant rock band Due'le quartz is armed with a new guitarist. The young talent seems to be greatly skilled and I'm afraid we're stuck with him for years to come. Be sure to remember his name, it's: ___.”

But how hard he tried he couldn't find a name that suited, that sounded good to fill the empty space in the tale. When it was his turn he gripped his guitar-case tightly, holding his breath as he walked on to the scene that would show him off till, hopefully, his future band mates.

What was said on stage he didn't really remember. And how he came up with the name Miyabi he can't recall at all. He was a lanky teenager with no ounce of elegance what so ever and when he left the scene he disloathed himself. Thoughts of that he could have done so much better, given better answers, acted more cool and musician-like, that he should have made up a name that was believable on him wandered trough his head.

When he got home he punched his pillow; hide under his blanket in self-con tempted shame of his behaviour. He would never ever be chosen to be the guitarist of Due'le quartz. He was way to un-cool for that.

With a grunt he accepted his grandmother's offer of a cup of tea. While he got up from the futon he tried to dismiss the thoughts of becoming a guitarist. To accept that he was to not cool for that. Maybe he should just stick to the idea of becoming a doctor.